The Gift of the Magi
by rhyejess
Summary: Alternate reality Christmas fic. Happy.


**Disclaimer:** Annie's characters, I make no money.**  
**

**AN:** Not _total_ fluff, but I think it counts. Based on O. Henry's story by the same title. For Marakeshsparrow. 

The Gift of the Magi

This Christmas, like every Christmas of their lives, they were doing nothing special. Jack'd drug him all over kingdom come to cut down a tree, of course. That fact alone was enough to predict that the weather that day would be about six and windy, which, of course, it was, with scattered flurries. By the time they'd hauled it back, even Nugget was shivering in his paws. It was Nugget's first Christmas tree, and Jack seemed to take that as kind of important, like Nugget was a kid or something. Ennis wondered that maybe Jack missed Bobby, despite his cheerfulness.

They hadn't had any sort a tree stand, and Ennis put his foot down at buying such a fool thing since they were having plenty of money troubles, so Jack had put his mind to work. He'd upended a small pine side-table, tied the tree round the middle to the four legs, and plopped their one big bowl, a stainless one, under the tree for water. Jack didn't even seem to mind that it was the stupidest looking get-up ever. Jack had managed to bring with him from his divorce two strings of lights and two boxes of bulbs with hooks, so it looked almost like it might be supposed to when they were done. They celebrated with hot coffee and cool Canadian whiskey, lazed in front of a television that got one station, and that one not so well.

It was their first Christmas together, though, and something was thrumming through the air that even Ennis could feel. He'd driven three hours to the next biggest town to buy Jack's present. Long johns, aftershave, and a fancy full quill ostrich belt to show off those rodeo buckles he was so damn proud of. The belt hadn't been cheap at all, running over eighty bucks, but he'd managed it.

The wind only whipped up harder as the dark got deeper, pressing in against the sides of their well-lit and well-insulated house. They hadn't fixed it up with frills, but the two of them had fixed up the old shack together and well. Better than any house Ennis had lived in, including that apartment above the laundromat. Mostly he had Jack to thank. The man insisted they not skimp on insulation, and though Ennis didn't much mind the cold like Jack did, coming home to a warm indoors after a day of working outside in the harsh Wyoming winter wind played tricks upon the mind and soul, leaving as a chant lingering in every room of the house the very idea of home. Ennis wondered whether maybe the lack of warmth was what had always made him feel so alone, but he knew that Jack was part of that chant too. Things were, in a way, perfect. They had a tiny front porch that led straight into a tiny living room. The hallway off the living room functioned well enough when a table was plopped there. The kitchen was just a little hallways itself, and off the "dining room" as Jack had taken to calling the hallway table, was just the bathroom and one bedroom. They'd made most of the furniture themselves, rough-hewn pine mostly. A lot of the kitchen tools came from both of their divorces, and one evening they'd stood there and compared Lureen's taste in silverware with Alma's, smiles in their eyes. Probably an evil thing to make fun of the woman give birth to your children, but with Jack nothing quite seemed evil any more. They had a closet, a shed, a good barn, several bad barns, lots of acres of crap fences, and about the sorriest group of cattle you ever seen. Jack said that was only because Ennis never seen Jack's daddy's cattle, but they both knew this outfit wasn't going too well. Still, coming inside to the warm house-- and Jack had even put a fucking white carpet right in the living room right off the only door-- it was hard to care for a couple hours that they might have to figure something else out than a cow n' calf operation.

They rarely made meals as such. Breakfasts mostly. Dinners were every-man-for-himself, and Ennis didn't eat lunch. They did take turns frying up eggs and meats for breakfast, though. Mostly Ennis ate beans for dinner because they were easy and cheap. Jack ate stuff like tuna fish and bread, or peanut butter sandwiches, or stew, soup, or chili. Always left the pots for Ennis to clean. Ennis didn't complain, though, because it was Jack who drove the laundry every few weeks to the nearest laundromat, and who came back with groceries. Tonight, Christmas Eve or whatever, had been no different. It didn't need to be.

"You wanna open your present?" Jack's eyes shone like Nugget's, seeing a bone.

"It ain't even Christmas yet."

"Close enough." Jack hadn't never been a patient person.

"Yeah, alright. Let me go get yours then." Ennis retrieved Jack's present, wrapped in plastic bag, from under the bed. Jack had wrapped Ennis's in newspaper in a box. They sat back on the couch, their only audience the sixth replay of _It's a Wonderful Life_ they'd seen this December. Ennis was starting to have it memorized. _What do you want? You... you want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey! That's a pretty good idea! I'll give you the moon..._

Jack opened his first. He smiled and nodded at the long underwear. Ennis knew Jack was always cold, and a man couldn't have enough long johns, especially with the infrequency of Jack's drives to the laundromat. The aftershave earned Ennis a raised eyebrow and a teasing smile, and he looked down to hide his blush. Seemed a good gift. Always got Alma some cheap perfume... but Jack weren't Alma, which is why there was one more.

Jack pulled out the belt with a gasping breath. "Shit, Ennis, this one fine piece ."

"That's, uh... that there's full quill ostrich."

"Yeah, uh, I can tell."

"Figure you need you a fancy belt show off them fancy ridin' buckles."

Jack made a funny face, then smiled up, beaming beauty bright, westward leading Ennis to wherever Jack wanted, as usual. "Thank you Ennis. Really... really good of you. Thank you." Even Ennis could see it wasn't a thank you for the belt. "You... you gonna open yours?"

Ennis'd nearly forgot. He been sort of content with Jack's day-star eye twinkle. Ennis started carefully untaping the newspaper clinging to a shoebox.

"Will you goddamn just rip it off already. It's just old newspaper."

"Well, but what if I wannta read it?" Ennis might have been teasing a little bit.

"You already read it!"

Ennis spared a wink for Jack before tearing into the paper. The truth was, he didn't want to rush this moment. He didn't need what was in the box, just... just everything he already had.

First out was a new lead rope, then a new pair of work gloves, and finally... "Jack." Ennis felt his voice catch.

"It's, uh, silver. For your grandfather's pocket watch I know you got, but you don't wear it because it don't have a chain, so I thought..." Jack's explanation died.

Ennis was staring at him, disapproval drawing down his smile. "This must a cost lot a money."

"Not like that belt?"

Ennis was caught there. "But, but lookit. Jack... I had ta... I mean. I sold my granddad's pocket watch to buy you that belt."

Jack's broken-boy frown simmered up, his eyebrows knitting down. "You did."

"Yeah, I, I didn--"

"That's a bitch."

"Didn't never wear it so I thought made sense. Shit. I feel like shit, Jack. I should of told you or something."

"Don't see why."

Jack had a point. He didn't have to consult Jack every time he wanted to pawn off one of his own belongings.

"Just a bit ironic's all." Jack chuckled, but it wasn't quite a merry chuckle.

"Yeah. I'm sure as hell sorry, bud. You know I am."

"Well, then guess I got something to apologize for, too."

"You do?"

"I sold my rodeo buckles to buy you that watch chain."

"You sold... But Jack, them buckles was sentimental to you."

"Not like your grandfather's watch, huh?"

Caught again. "Shit."

"Ah, 's alright."

"Shit. No, it ain't."

"Yeah, it is. Look at it this way. What we had was sentimental to us 'bout the past, but now what we got's... this." Jack looked up with a wink, "An I guess I lucked out 'cause a man can still wear a belt without a buckle."

"Yeah, well, I can wear a watch chain too."

"Without a watch?"

"Don't see why not. You got it for me."

The room suddenly hung silent. Jack's smile was gone, his eyes suddenly stern-as-Herod. "What'd you just say?"

"I mean, I can wear it if I want to." Ennis suddenly felt put on the spot, not understanding what was going on here, or why Jack's sudden mood shift seemed so important.

"Yeah, you can wear it if you want to. Do you? Want to?"

"I..." And suddenly it hit Ennis, what he had said. Said he wanted to wear a useless piece a jewelry just 'cause Jack had given it to him. As a token. As a... "Yeah, I do."

Ennis was glad he was sitting, 'cause if Jack had lunged to kiss him that far and hard while standing, he would have been on his ass on the floor, and probably broken his butt-bone in the process. Jack tasted of more expensive whiskey than he was used to, it being Christmas and all. Ennis managed to muster the emotional fortitude to pull himself out of the kiss.

"Now wait up here. We ain't to that part yet." And yes, he knew what he'd just said, but this was Christmas, and it was different or whatever. Just them, their house, no one seeing or hearing, no one knowing that he didn't have a watch on the end of that chain.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. What about my belt, huh? You gonna wear it without a buckle?"

"Well, I'd put it on right now, but I just can't, Ennis."

"Why's that?" Ennis knit his brows.

"Don't think I was plannin' to have my pants on too much longer." Jack's eyetooth caught his lip, his tongue snaking out to drive his point home.

'Cept they were already there. It was Ennis who lunged this time, not letting up a beat until they finally slunk into a deep and dreamless sleep in the not-so-silent night.


End file.
